Echo didn't hesitate.She dove into the collapsing data stream, eyes burning, lips pressed into a fierce line.
"Don't you dare leave me now, you stubborn bastard."
The Watcher's code tried to block her—tendrils of anti-memory, static walls of rewritten timelines—but she sliced through all of it.
The second she crossed into Specter's soul archive, she was no longer in the system.She was in him.
It was quiet.Too quiet.
No voice.No commands.No Specter.
Just corridors of fading memory—echoes of who he once was.
A child with bright eyes, playing with echo cubes.A young engineer coding star systems in his dorm.A leader with too much weight on his shoulders.
She whispered:"You weren't born a god. You chose to forget your pain."
But she would remind him.
Even if it killed her.
The memory corridor split open—And she stood at the center of a crumbling cathedral of data.
Above her:Specter's true self, shackled mid-air, bleeding light from his chest.
